The Leftovers of a Life

by Anna Oney

"No."

  "What are you going to do with the rest?" Jane asked.

  "Yeah, Lizzie." Claire teased.

  "I'm going to give some to the new boy."

  "Lizzie's got a boyfriend!" Claire exclaimed. "Lizzie's got a boyfriend!"

  "All right, that's enough," Emma said, trying to avoid a fight that could last for days if it went on. "Lizzie, c'mon, I'll walk you over. Girls, we'll meet you at the garden. Y'all go ahead and start your chores before your uncle's gator tendencies are unleashed."

  Jane and Claire chuckled in response to Emma's remark as Lizzie and Emma began walking hand in hand. Together, they trekked toward Mrs. Maples's abode. Lizzie was eleven-years-old, and different from most children her age. Often she escaped into her imagination, or to the dock to be alone and think. Though in the past couple of weeks, Emma had noticed a change in her. She hadn't retreated to her safe and secluded place for quite some time. Still, she was attached to Emma's hip, but her grasp had loosened a bit.

  "Lizzie, baby, do you like Cooper?"

  "I guess."

  "You wouldn't be giving them berries away if you didn't."

  "He's nice to me."

  "Yeah, he is a nice boy. You know, if you wanted to start helping Mrs. Maples, I'd understand."

  Tom and Cooper were mostly needed to assist Mrs. Maples with home repairs and gardening. She would seldom lend them out. Suggesting that Lizzie help Mrs. Maples with any other needs she may have was an attempt to help the girl bust fully from her shell.

  Reaching the threshold of Mrs. Maples's rickety porch steps, Emma and Lizzie halted in their tracks when they heard the intrusion bell ring. The three loud dings caused Lizzie to circle her arms tightly around Emma's waist.

  "Let go, baby! Get inside. You and Cooper stay close to Tom."

  "But, but," she stammered. "I—"

  "I'm not gonna tell you again. Go!" she commanded, and as Lizzie bolted toward the steps, Emma shouted, "I'll be right back!"

  "What do you mean you'll be right back?" Tom said, emerging from the backyard. He pulled his shirt down over his head, and Emma gulped as she noticed his abs glistening with water droplets due to his poor toweling off. "I'm coming with you," he added, as he became fully clothed, and reached her side.

  "Well, c'mon if you're going."

  Rushing past the rusted red fence, Emma noticed there were two intruders, and they stood on the opposite side of the fence. What stuck out the most to Emma was the girl's bright-pink hair. A single name escaped Emma's lips as they reached the bottom of the hill: "Darby?" Only a few strides away, Emma saw that Lyle was furious as he aimed his rifle in her friend's direction.

  Darby's hair and retro pinup style, not to mention her many displayed tattoos, cast her out of place among Back Wood's completely "square" way of living. She had an unsettling fascination with crows and skulls and sported a tattoo of them stretched across her shoulder blades and trailing down both of her arms.

  Link, Darby's long-bearded fiancé, stood beside her. He wore a biker's black leather vest and a red button-down shirt. Tattoos of Frankenstein, Leatherface, and the Wolf Man were scattered down his right arm. They both clung to the handles of their shiny, brand-new bikes.

  "Cousin!" Emma shouted. "Hold up! Put the gun down!"

  As Darby and Emma made eye contact across the way, Darby stepped forward, forcing Lyle to fire a warning shot at her feet. "You asshole!" she shouted, rattling the fence that separated them.

  Grabbing Darby from behind, Link circled his arms around her, attempting to keep her from thrashing about.

  "Calm down," he whispered. "Calm down."

  "We can't be letting everyone come freely," Lyle fumed, as Emma reached his side. "How the hell are we going to survive if we offer a home to everyone who happens to stop by?"

  "How can we refuse the people we care about?"

  "What'll Uncle Doolie say? I'm the one who's on guard. I'm the one who'll get in trouble."

  "I'll take it." Emma paused, glancing toward Darby's pleading eyes and then back to her cousin. "Open the gate."

  Once the gate was opened, Darby latched her body to Emma's and embraced her tighter than Emma believed she'd ever been hugged before. As Darby's tears trickled down Emma's neck, Darby sobbed.

  "It's been so long. I . . . I thought you were dead."

  "How are you here right now?" Emma gasped, tearing up.

  "You always said if anything bad were to happen, to come to your place. You said y'all were prepared."

  "That's kinda funny."

  "Why?"

  "Because," she said, "I always meant it as a joke. I never thought anything like this would happen. But I'm glad you're here. God, I missed you."

  On the sidelines, Emma overheard Tom introducing himself to Link. Witnessing their hearty handshake made her worried mind feel at ease. If they can start off on the right foot, she thought, why can't everyone else?

  Darby's fiancé waved and nodded in her direction in his usual awkward sort of way.

  "Hey, Emma," he said, forcing her to realize she'd missed him just as much as she'd missed her pink-haired friend.

  As they parted, the familiar bark of Stella approaching caused Darby and Emma to turn around. The dog's white ears flapped with the wind as she sprinted past them and jumped into Link's welcoming arms.

  "Hey there, Stella!" He chuckled as he was showered with doggie kisses. "I missed you, too."

  "You need any help?" Tom asked, obvious signs of jealousy settling in on his face.

  "Nah, I'm good, dude. She'll be done in a sec." He paused, cutting a smile. "You jealous?"

  "No comment."

  New acquaintances were made and finalized, and Emma began to worry why Doolie hadn't showed yet. After expressing her concern, they gathered Darby and Link's supplies and began the walk to Doolie's house. Slowly, they cleared the hill overlooking the barrier.

  "How'd you get all this stuff?" Emma asked her old friends.

  "All the gas stations were picked dry, so the big stores were people's only options. In the beginning, the managers kept all the entrances guarded to try to keep people from stealing. But they didn't hold out for long. After what happened, everyone in town went crazy. People started robbing each other." Darby grabbed Link's hand. "We were lucky. We stayed hidden. All the looters started hurting people when they resisted, so we only came out at night."

  "Where'd y'all stay? Your apartment?"

  "No . . . no, not there. You remember that old dried-up spillway next to the ballpark?"

  "Yeah?"

  "We stayed pretty well hidden there. Link managed to nip some camping supplies from the store and a little food," Darby replied. "Your cousin's right, by the way. If you want to survive, you can't keep letting people in. People I've known for years, people we've worked with have lied to, robbed, and beat me over these past months. Everyone has changed; no one can be trusted."

  Emma felt as though she were talking with Doolie. Darby had just confirmed what he'd warned her of months earlier. Soon after hearing the enlightening and unsettling truth about how things had changed, they reached Emma's parents' driveway. To their surprise, no one was outside—not the girls, not her cousins. No one was occupied with their normal routine.

  "Where is everyone?" Tom asked as they passed through the carport. "Something's happened." On alert, he practically forced Darby to the side, and he took her place beside Emma.

  As they climbed the steps, Emma noticed Doolie's ladder lying flat on the ground beside the house, and recollections of his plans to mend the roof slowly resurfaced.

  "It's Daddy," Emma whispered. Barging through the front door, she instantly ran into Maddox.

  Tears formed in her cousin's eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  "Em! Emma!" he cried. "Doolie . . . he fell. He's hurt. Bad."

  "Where is he?"

  "C'mon," he said. "Shirley and Mrs. Maples are with him now."

  Pushing through their neighbors' worried faces a
nd somber nods in Emma's direction, she glanced over her shoulder and found Tom and Darby following close behind. Link stayed huddled in the corner with Stella to keep her company.

  The door of her parents' bedroom stood only a couple of steps away. Breathe, Emma told herself. He's gonna be okay. It's not gonna be that bad. Just breathe.

  Entering the room, Emma's eyes went straight to Shirley, who was sobbing and on her knees in prayer, and then to Doolie, who lay on his side. Mrs. Maples and Cooper, acting as her assistant, were examining Doolie's lower back. Ripley sat at the foot of the bed, resting her massive head next to his feet. Caressing Shirley's shoulder, Emma knelt beside her wounded father and gazed into his pain-stricken face.

  Before she could speak, Doolie shouted, "Everyone out except for Emma!" He winced from the effort.

  "Doolie, no," Mrs. Maples protested. "We're not finished yet. We still nee—"

  "I said go," he commanded, cutting her off.

  Once the two women were gone, Emma sat on the bed, and asked, "How bad is it? What does she think?"

  "Think?" He groaned. "I know what's wrong. And it ain't something she can fix, either."

  "Then what do you know?"

  "I know I waited too long," he replied. "I should've listened to you." He cringed. "Griffin should be here." Grasping Emma's hand, he began to cry. "Go . . . go find your brother. And bring him home."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Serious? Hell yeah I'm serious, serious as a couple of slipped discs." He grinned, trying to ease the intensity of his pain with humor.

  "This isn't funny."

  "I know, darling, I know. But you need to go," he said. "But . . . there's one condition."

  "Okay?"

  "You have to take that guy, Tom, with you."

  "Yeah right, like I'm gonna take him," she scoffed. "You're talking crazy."

  "You will," he said, angrily, "or I won't give you my blessing. You'll take him with you because I said so. That's the only way I'm letting you go without me. Deal?"

  Looking him in the eye, Emma kissed his cheek, and reluctantly replied, "Okay, Daddy."

  Not another word was spoken. As far as Doolie knew, they had an agreement. What he didn't know was the only life Emma was willing to risk was her own.

  Exiting the room, Emma found Tom and Maddox waiting for her.

  "How is he?" Maddox asked.

  "Not too good. It's gonna be rough," she answered. "Hey, you remember Darby and Link?"

  "Sure I do."

  "Introduce them for me, will you? Tom and I have things to discuss."

  "We do?" Tom interjected.

  "Yes."

  Spotting Emma, Stella tore away from Link's grasp and joined them. Leaving her friends with Maddox, Emma and Tom exited her childhood home and began covering the distance toward the barn.

  "Remember that thing I asked you to help me with?" Taking his nod as confirmation, Emma continued. "I think it's about that time. He's hurt. He's hurt real bad. And I need to be prepared for anything."

  "Emma, the man isn't dying," he argued. "Mrs. Maples said she could fix him. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

  "I have good reasons to be," she said. "Mrs. Maples was only saying that to ease Momma's mind. The last time he suffered this kind of injury, he had to undergo surgery to fix it. Do you think we have that kind of equipment here? Do you?"

  "No. No, I haven't seen any."

  "He'll have to go through hell and back if he's gonna get better. I know I can never be as strong as him or you, but I'd like to try."

  Grasping her forearm, Tom stopped Emma in her tracks. Meeting her gaze, he asked, "When do we start?"

  "Tomorrow, early, no exceptions. You game?"

  "Sure."

  Parting ways, Tom went to the left and Emma to the right. She found it odd that her neighbors didn't seem concerned with their new additions. Frankly, the neighbors kept their distance. Even Andy hadn't inquired about them. Sadly, Emma assumed they were frightened of their tattoos and unique style.

  Darby was quite beautiful. Even though they'd never admit it, Emma was certain Darby's curvaceous figure and shoulder-length, thick, curly hair would make a seductive appearance in every Back Wood man's dreams. She'd always made an impression wherever she went. Every time Darby conversed with someone, they would get lost in her sapphire eyes, forcing her to repeat the last thing she'd said. Even now, with her brown roots showing, Darby was pleasing to the eye.

  Link was equally as handsome. Emma believed what made them so enticing was how strange and different they were from the people surrounding them. Darby's fiancé looked his best when his beard was at its shaggiest. Being clean-cut and shaven just didn't have the same effect, so the rougher Link looked, the better.

  Showing them around, Emma informed them of the responsibilities she believed to be the best fit for them. Darby didn't argue. It seemed the times had softened her disagreeable mentality a bit. She possessed a great talent for designing and making clothes, so with Aunt Mary's supplies, she'd be tasked with fixing any clothing that needed mending. Link was skilled in carpentry, much like Doolie, so Emma left him with Tom to help with repairs, and perhaps in the future he could help construct another building for shelter or storage. Both Darby's and Link's skills were an asset, which made them staying less of a burden.

  As Darby laid eyes on the piles of ripped clothes and jeans, the biggest smile stretched across her face.

  "Finally." She sighed. "Something I'm actually good at."

  The girls loved Darby. Using her out-of-this-world style and alluring characteristics, she coaxed them into wanting to learn how to sew. Darby made anything and everything look cool. Just the previous day, Emma had believed she'd be dead before she saw Jane wanting to learn anything, much less how to sew.

  "I'm gonna leave y'all to it," Emma said, shutting the door.

  Crossing the hall, Emma entered Aunt Mary's bedroom. The windows were open, and the wind blessed her with a cool breeze. As her niece joined her, Mary managed to grace her with a smile.

  "How are you feeling?" Emma asked, taking her hand.

  "Oh, honey, don't worry yourself with me."

  "Which book you want me to read today?" Emma asked, attempting to keep the thought of losing her at bay.

  "Feels like a Larry McMurtry kind of day," she replied. "How about Lonesome Dove?"

  "Sounds good to me."

  After the fourth chapter, Aunt Mary grew tired and fell asleep. Before leaving, she made sure her aunt was tucked in, and as always, Emma left her with a kiss on the forehead. Mary seemed to know when her niece did this, because the smallest grin formed every time she did so.

  Closing the door behind her, Emma entered the sewing room to find Darby and the girls napping on a pile of clothes. Snooping around, she noticed a new pile of mended garments. Leaning forward, she picked up Darby's pack in an attempt to help her with the load, and all of Darby's belongings tumbled out and scattered on the floor.

  The noise woke them, and they gawked at Emma as though she were guilty of a punishable crime.

  "Sorry," Emma whispered, frantically picking up her friend's belongings from the floor.

  The items that stuck out to Emma were two packages of expensive hair dye. One was turquoise and the other was magenta. There were a couple of cases of shampoo and conditioner lying on the floor as well.

  "Really?" Emma asked in an exasperated tone.

  "Oh, what's the matter?" Darby asked.

  "Please tell me didn't you risk your lives going back for hair color. Please! Please don't." Emma begged, emotionally exhausted.

  "Is it a crime to stock up on hair products?"

  "Yes, yes, actually it is. You stole them, didn't you?"

  "It really wasn't stealing at all. It was a free-for-all sale, and I was the first in line!"

  Gazing into her ridiculously upbeat friend's eyes, Emma couldn't help but think, Oh, Darby, how I've missed you.

  Chapter 16:

  Emma<
br />
  Emma's training started the day after Darby and Link settled in. It was a breezy day, which was Emma's least favorite kind of day because it made her hair look like a big, frizzed-out, tangled bird's nest. Picking her attire for their first session seemed to be harder than it should have been. If it were one of Emma's relatives training her, she would have gone with the most comfortable outfit imaginable. But it wasn't. It was Tom. T-O-M. Tom. So, as Emma put it, 'Nough said.

  Emma had never made a habit of working out, and she was definitely not counted among those who looked good while doing it. The only person she knew who did, was her beautiful, well-put-together cousin Farrah. But there was no chance of Emma being able to fit in one of Farrah's matching outfits. She had no choice but to settle for her warmup cutoffs, along with her comfortable 2XL t-shirt.

  For their workout session, Tom wore black, baggy gym shorts with a gray tank top. Needless to say, his beautifully toned, muscular arms were on great display. Trying to avoid them for fear of blindness, Emma was grateful when he broke the silence.

  "You ready?"

  "Sure thing," she replied, as she completely doubted herself.

  The first thing Tom tortured her with was three sets of thirty sit-ups, then it was push-ups, then it was lunges, and then—to top it all off—Emma had to hold herself in plank pose for sixty seconds. Once they'd exited through the back barrier, Tom explained, "There's no such thing as walking until I say there is."

  They ran as far as the Boom Hole and passed through the old Indian dig, with its huge mounds of dirt and abandoned tools. Once they reached the landmark, Emma was pleased to find Tom panting more than she was. With a quick wave of his hand, Tom commanded her to take a break.

  Using one of the many piles of dirt as her throne, Emma sprawled out on the loosened earth.

  "Man, a cheeseburger sounds good right about now. Did we pass any burger joints on the way here?"

  "None that I could see," Tom replied, amused. "Do you have to sit like that?"

  "Look, don't judge me right now, okay? I'm whooped."

  "We still have the rest of the way home to go." He heaved, clutching at a stitch in his side, "Don't get too comfortable."